


No more

by heatgeneratingtechniques



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Drift - Freeform, Drift Compatibility, Implied Relationships, Multi, Repressed Memories, Siblings, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 22:57:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14091540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heatgeneratingtechniques/pseuds/heatgeneratingtechniques
Summary: Mako wants Jake to try drifting again.





	No more

**Author's Note:**

> Minor spoilers for Uprising, obviously. Just had to get this bit of cliched angst out of my system. :)

Mako wants Jake back in a jaeger. She needs all the pilots she can get, as Raleigh’s temporarily sidelined with a broken leg

“I’m not drifting with Nate,” Jake tells her.

“I wasn’t thinking of Nate,” she says. “I wanted you to try drifting with me.”

Jake looks away from her, out across the jaeger repair bay. It’s bustling with the usual daily activity: vehicles towing jaeger parts to and fro, mechanics inspecting their handiwork in small groups.

Even now, ten years after the war, there are still moments when he half-expects to see his father striding past with a firm expression on his face and a reprimand on his lips.

“There are other pilots,” Mako reminds him. “You can try drifting with them as well, to see if you’d be compatible with anyone besides Nate.”

“I haven’t piloted a jaeger since...”  _ Since I almost killed myself trying to pilot alone. _ Jake shakes his head sharply. “Mako, you and I were barely drift compatible back when we used to train together. And once the drones get deployed, pilots will be useless. Why do you want to try again now?”

“We’ve both changed since then,” she tells him. “And it won’t matter how many remote-controlled jaegers we deploy. We’ll always need competent pilots in the reserves.”

He wants to turn her down, but he can’t. He owes her so much for repeatedly bailing him out of trouble, for putting up with years of his bullshit. He’s caused her enough grief already. So reluctantly, he agrees.

He doesn’t tell her that he’s afraid of what he might see if he tries to drift again. His last time in a jaeger had barely lasted ten seconds before he’d blacked out, but the memory of the strain still haunts him.

He’s barely spoken to Nate since returning to the base. They interact when training the cadets, but otherwise give each other a wide berth. Jake sometimes catches Nate’s eye across the mess hall, but neither of them holds the other’s gaze for long. It hurts to thinks of how things used to be, of how he and Nate had gone from sharing sparring techniques to sharing a bunk. They had been unified mentally for years, so when their relationship turned physical, it made perfect sense at the time.

Even then, Jake knew that Dad didn’t completely approve of him dating Nate. He knew that Jake’s blood ran hot, knew that Nate responded poorly to attacks on his pride. But they drifted well together and well-trained jaeger pilots were desperately needed in the war, so he’d mostly left them alone.

Now, Jake finds himself wondering what might have happened if he’d stayed. Would he and Nate still be together? Would they have died in the war, like his father? There are too many questions flooding his mind on a daily basis, too many things that he’s tried to forget for years.

Maybe it would’ve been better if he’d just gone to jail instead of agreeing to come back here.

Mako finds him in the mess hall a few days later, after a grueling day of training cadets. He’s moodily eating his way through his second bowl of strawberry ice cream drizzled in chocolate syrup.

“Tomorrow at 0900,” she says. “You and I are drifting in Gipsy.”

Jake knows she’s excited. Her eyes are alight with an energy that he’s only seen from her when she’s won a sparring match. He manages a tired grin.

“Don’t get your hopes up too high, sis.”

He dreams of Dad that night and wakes up with tears on his face.

The shame clings to him even after he leaves his bunk for the washroom. He washes his face in the sink, pausing to frown at the bags under his eyes. After this test, he just wants to sleep.

Mako smiles at him when he enters the jaeger bay. It’s not the tight-lipped grin of a patronizing older sister, but an open expression of relief.

“I was afraid you’d run off again,” she tells him.

He does an exaggerated double-take as they stride down the walkway to where Gipsy Danger stands waiting. It was Mako and Raleigh’s, but he and Nate had been allowed to train in it a few times before. As he and Mako fasten themselves in, he feels a little better. The familiar motions help calm him down.

The countdown begins.

Mako meets his gaze. He already knows what she wants to tell him.  _ You’ll be fine Jake. _

The dispassionate voice of Gipsy’s OS intones, “Neural handshake initiated.”

The memories slam into Jake’s mind with the strength of a gale force wind.

He sees the day his father brought Mako home. He remembers how shy she was back then, how his six-year-old self had found her to be a nuisance at first. Until one day, when he found her crying alone in the sparring room, sitting in a corner with her knees drawn up to her chest.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She jumped at the sound of his voice, shrinking back as she quickly wiped the tears from her face.

“Nothing,” she said.

Jake wasn’t sure how to respond to this, but he knew that Dad wanted him to be nice to her. He comes to sit beside her on the floor.

“I cry sometimes,” he offers. “’specially when I miss my mom.”

He’s not sure if he said the wrong thing, because her lower lip is quivering again.

“I miss my mother, too,” she says.

He looks at her, eyes wide. It had never dawned on her that she felt the same way as he did, but of  _ course _ it made sense. They’d both lost so much to the kaiju.

“Do you want me to give you a hug?” he asks after a moment.

She nods.

Then Jake gets yanked away by more memories, more powerful emotions. The fights he and Nate had, the hot moments of pleasure in the dark as they’d made up afterwards. The time he tried to pilot a jaeger alone, this time from Mako’s perspective. There’s something especially mortifying about feeling her disappointment in him.

The worst part is remembering the last time he saw his father.

It was afterwards, in the med bay. Dad was full of quiet rage, every word cutting Jake deeply.

“You knew better, Jake.”

Jake kept his eyes on his hands, plucking at the IV tube fastened to the back of his hand.

“Look at me.”

Reluctantly, Jake obeyed. His father’s jaw was clenched with barely suppressed fury, his hands clenched at his sides. For a moment, Jake wondered if his father might strike him, but instead he sighed and turned away.

His father kept talking, calling Jake a disgrace to the entire jaeger program. Jake could’ve destroyed the jaeger, could’ve killed himself from the strain. Dad began to list his punishments — a month of clean-up duty and extra PT, among other things — but Jake cut him off.

“I’m leaving.”

After that, the memories come faster than he can handle. Jake knows he’s supposed to let them pass, let them flow through him, but he’s panicking now. He tries to latch on to something, desperate to stem the tide.

There’s so much regret here, so much that Jake’s tried to forget. He’s not proud of anything he’s done. He wishes he hadn’t cut so many friends off after he left. He wishes he'd gone to his father's funeral. He wishes he’d been able to comfort Mako in her grief, but he’d been too busy lashing out at others instead of dealing with his own.

Then Mako’s voice cuts through his panic.

With a gasp, he’s back in Gipsy Danger, on his knees, surrounded by holographic error messages. Alarms are going off all around him, and voices are yelling on the com link. Mako’s face is level with his.

“Look at me, brother,” she’s saying. “Look at me and tell me you’re okay.”

He’s sweating, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

“I’m okay,” he whispers. “I’m... I’m...”

A sob wells up, too quickly for him to suppress. His eyes are burning with tears. Mako helps him to his feet, helps him out of the jaeger.

Several faces peer down at them from the command center, but they’re too far away to recognize.

Nate might be up there, watching Jake embarrass himself all over again.

In a sudden burst of frustration, Jake pushes Mako away. “I can’t do this.”

“I’m sorry, Jake—”

“It’s not your fault.” He unfastens his helmet and wipes his face dry. “I thought... I thought I was better. Thought I could handle this.”

“Maybe we can try again another time,” Mako offers, but he shakes his head.

“Can’t do it. Listen, I’ll train as many cadets as you want, but not this.” He gestures angrily at Gipsy’s massive form looming behind them. “No more drifting for me.”


End file.
